The Kindness of Strangers
by kiazilla
Summary: As a Sarafan Priest, Turel had little time for civilians. He had few friends outside of the Brotherhood and only focused on destroying the vampire race. But a chance encounter with a young victim of a feral vampire attack leaves him wanting more from life
1. A Little Help

Blinking a few times, Turel opened his eyes, looking around the Shayliak forest with the confusion of a new-born.

Gods, was he that exhausted that he had began to drift off into sleep thanks to the soothing rocking of his faithful horse? The poor animal twisted his head and snorted at his master with distaste. _I'm tired too_, he seemed to say. _But I'm staying awake so I can take your useless behind back to the house._

"I understand, and I'm truly sorry," Turel whispered to the horse, giving the beast a gentle stroke behind the ear before he kicked him lightly and the steed sped up again, crunching twigs and leaves underneath his powerful hooves. "It's not a long journey now, Cassius. You've served me well today my friend. When we get to the house, I promise you a whole barrel of fresh water and hay."

The horse, a seven year old purebreed who Turel affectionately named Cassius, loudly nayed in response, apparently pleased wth the promise of his reward. Turel smiled and patted the horse again before straightening himself up, breathing in and out deeply in an effort to regain a little energy. The night had been a tiring one for both himself and Cassius, and the house was still several kilometres away, despite of what he'd promised the horse.

It didn't help, either, that Shayliak forest was such an isolated and sleepy place. The trees were so tall that they blocked out almost all sunlight, which didn't do wonders for the Sarafan Priests' current state.

The battle had been long. It had lasted almost twelve hours, those damned fledgling vampires appearing to be stronger every time the Sarafan challenged a new clan. Still, they were all left decapitated and defeated, since Turel was a most capable executor, and his Sarafan brothers were hardly novices either. But the early morning sun did play a significant part in their battle against the vermin by quietly burning the pesky survivors with it's morning rays.

Turel had prayed, he had been thankful.

But now, as thankful as he was, his main priority was rest.  
Which was exactly why he had almost missed her.

"Cassius, halt!" The horse gave a deafening roar as Turel tugged at his reigns not too gently, causing the stallion to stop dead in his tracks. He surprisingly hadn't noticed what his owner had, but did enjoy the temporarily relief on his back when Turel suddenly brought his right leg round in one swift motion, and quickly jumped off the beast.

He could see her, but only barely.  
From a distance, apart from her gender, distinguishing anything else was impossible, which was why Turel approached carefully, one hand already toying with the knife strapped to his belt, just in case this lump of skirts and hoods proved out to be dangerous.

"You there, in the woods," Turel cried out, his movements no longer lethargic and his eyes now were wide and alert. He had to be aware of danger at all times. In a land swarming with vampire vermin, anything and everything was a potential danger, skirts or not. "What are you doing here? What is your name?"

The woman barely moved and as Turel came closer, he began to realise that the 'woman' was hardly that, and could not have been over the age of eighteen, and was clearly absolutely terrified of him.  
He sighed in relief and relaxed his grip on his sword. She was filthy and her clothes were torn, but the girl was obviously human and hardly posed a threat.

"Please... please help me," Turel almost dismissed the tiny voice as a gust of wind, she spoke so quietly. As he approached her and pushed the heavy tree branches out of the way in order to see her better, Turel's eyes widened a little in sympathy. It was no wonder that the girl hadn't ran when she heard him approach, her ankle was broken and by the looks of it, she had used up her last bout of energy to drag herself into this little self-made hiding place.

Of course, no vampire was foolish enough to ignore the smell of blood from dozens of little cuts across her face and lower legs. She was lucky to be alive and extremely lucky to have encountered one of the Sarafan Priests, and not one of the merciless fledgling vampires.

"I can't even begin to explain to you how lucky are not to be a corpse right now," Turel sighed, crouching as close to the girl as he possibly could in order to lift her. Being a one-man rescue team was hardly part of his job description but Turel could not bring himself to leave this girl here to die. He killed vampires to save the humans, after all, and leaving this girl here to die was completely against his morals. Plus, he wouldn't ever grant his enemies the gift of an injured young girl. He knew that those savages would literally rip her to shreds.

"Wrap your arms around my neck and I wil lift you. Be careful."

She was cautious, Turel could see that clearly, but she also knew that this stranger was her only hope so the girl carefully lifted her arms and slipped her hands around his neck, lightly linking her fingers together. The priest prepared himself for a heavy lift, but the only struggle came with fighting off the branches that insisted on whipping him in the face. The girl hardly weighed anything at all and she must have been at least a foot shorter than him, so even in his exhausted state, Turel had absolutely no trouble carrying her over to the horse.

"I'm so happy you are here, so happy," the girl mumbled, her arms slowly sliding from Turel's neck. She leaned against his metal armour as if it was the most comfortable thing and for the first time, Turel took a moment to examine her face. It was covered in dirt and cuts, and a heavy hood hung over her eyes so he couldn't even tell the colour of her hair. Only her lips and the tip of her nose were visible, and whilst Turel really had no opinions on noses, he did recognise her full lips as being very appealing. Not that it mattered to him personally since he was a celibate priest and took his work very seriously, but he could imagine that many men would certainly enjoy kissing those lips first thing in the morning.

"I have been here for so many days. I've lost count," she continued to mumble, her cheek now squashed against the armour of Turel's shoulder. "I thought that I would die tonight. I'm so happy you're here."

Turel said nothing as he carefully placed the girl on top of Cassius, who seemed somewhat agitated at having more extra weight on him once his master had climbed on as well. Turel's main concern now was the girl, however, and making sure that she wouldn't fall on their journey. She was weak, he could tell, and as soon as he pushed himself closer to her and allowed her to lean her back against his chest, she practically collapsed against him and her quiet whispers eventually stopped as she began to drift into sleep.

The girl was exhausted and for once, Turel felt an unusual rush of sympathy. He wasn't a cruel man by any means but his lack of empathy was well-known and well-understood amongst his closest friends, the other Sarafan priests. Turel had little time for civilians. They were careless and often got themselves into trouble, which was exactly what this girl had done, but this one time, he wasn't angry with her.

Maybe it was because she was so weak, and so small. Turel could hear the loud rumbling of her stomach and realised that she hadn't eaten for days. She was almost like a child in her size, and the way she leaned into him now, rocked into a deep sleep. He felt an unusual, almost paternal urge to protect the girl.

The rest of the journey wasn't as comfortable as Turel would have liked and took almost twice as long, but they finally got there in the end.

The girl had woken several times in a panic but almost instantly fallen back into a light sleep when she saw the familiarity of Turel's face. He found it somewhat amusing that she clearly felt safe with him, and they had yet to exchange names. It was a foolish move since he could have been absolutely anybody, but luckily for her he was a respectable Sarafan Priest.

"Girl," Turel mumbled awkwardly, gently moving his shoulder to try and wake the young woman without too much pressure. It was hardly polite but when she opened her eyes and stared straight into his, she didn't seem particularly offended. "We are at my home. Your ankle is broken so I will carry you and there my helper Zaida will help you."

The girl forced a smile and mouthed 'thank you' before sitting up and allowing her mysterious saviour to slide off the horse first before he took her in his arms again and walked with her to the house.

Turel could sense her curiosity as for the first time since their meeting, she raised her head, alert. His home was impressive by civilian standards, he knew that and he certainly never complained. It was a spacious, wooden two floored house that stood on the outskirts of Nosgoth. The garden was colourful and both the inside and outside of the house was well-kept and always clean. This wasn't Turel's doing of course, but 65-year old Zaida, who acted both as his cleaner and his cook did a wonderful job and the Sarafan priest paid her generously. She was a good woker, and a reliable friend and even though his only connections with her came from this professional relationship, it was still nice for the old woman to greet him every time he came home.

Today, however, Zaida's usually smiling mouth twisted into a surprised 'o' when her employer nudged open the door with his back and burst in with a young woman clinging onto his neck.

"Lord Turel!" Zaida exclaimed, rushing to her feet and quickly moving to her employer. "What happened?"

Turel's expression remained blank as he walked with the girl towards the only comfortable seat in his living area and gently sat her down there. The seat was always exclusively his as it was perfectly situated in front of a nice, warm fire, but on this occasion Turel felt like he could make an exception.

"You need to get this girl cleaned up, Zaida. She is injured and starving and filthy," Turel explained, his eyes drifting back to the young woman now, and she was gazing up at him with utter adoration. "After feeding her, please help her bathe. For now I will eat and clean myself. Let me deal with her injuries."

Zaida nodded vigorously, still clearly in shock, but obeyed Turel's wishes and plodded off into the kitchen. Food would be first and thankfully she had already cooked, and judging by the state of the girl, a bowl of warm thick broth and a chunk of fresh bread would be very welcome.

Turel was ready to follow her too, but a small hand suddenly grabbing his fingertips made him stop dead in his tracks and look down to the girl again.

"You are Lord Turel?" she asked in a quiet, timid voice as she pushed away the hood of her cloak with her free hand.

_So you're a brunette, _Turel thought as dark brown curls fell over her shoulders.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know... I don't mean to be such an inconvenience to you, I understand that you must be very bu-"

"Please, stop," Turel interrupted the guilty rant and held up both hands. "I wouldn't have just left you. But I am Turel, yes. To call me 'lord' isn't necessary."

It wasn't a surprise that she knew him by name, he was a local celebrity, just like his fellow priests. They were loved and respected and whilst not many could recognise them by face, everyone in the land knew the names of the top warriors of the Sarafan priests.

"What is your name? And what on earth happened to you?"

The girl blushed, he could see it even under the dirt covering her face. Turel wondered for a moment, what she would look like without the dirt and the blood, and whether or not she would be pretty, but he quickly forced that thought away. He was a Sarafan priest. He had codes and morals and out of all of the priests, he had probably been the most loyal.

"My name is Selena," the brunette whispered and Turel could see her eyes already filling with tears. "I am from Rakhan, it's a small village on the other side of the forests. There are only twelve or fourteen houses there, including my fathers. We... we were..." she paused and inhaled deeply as tears began to streak her cheeks, revealing the sun-kissed skin underneath. She was not from a rich family, she was a worker. "...we were attacked. Fledgling vampires, so many of them. We tried to escape but I lost everyone. I ran into the forest and I lost everyone. For four nights I heard screams and I ran and ran as much as I could. I think everyone is dead."

A silence pressed over them for several minutes and only Selena's quiet sobbing could be heard.

Turel examined her but didn't crouch down next to the girl, unsure of how exactly to comfort her. She had guessed correctly, everyone was dead. The attack on Rakhan happened four nights ago and the fledging heathens had burnt down the entire village and murdered practically everyone. Three or four people managed to get away but if like this girl they had sought solace in the unforgiving Shayliak, Turel truly doubted they they would be alive now. He had not been in Rakhan himself, but Raziel and Dumah had lead a strong army there. It was a surprise attack and unfortunately several of their men were lost, but the Sarafan stil came out victorious. Not one of those bastards had a heart intact by the end of the battle.

"Here, here!"

It was Zaida who eventually broke the silence. She rushed into the room with a bowl of broth and a chunk of bread, the smell of which stopped Selena's tears for a moment. She was so hungry, the echoes of her rumbling stomach could be heard throughout the entire house.

"Lord Turel, yours is on the table. I will help the girl bathe, then call you and tend to Cassius."

Turel nodded positive and looked down at the girl again, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. The poor child had lost her home, everyone she knew and probably her entire family. On occasion, the Sarafan's methods were criticised but on days like this, Turel felt no remorse. Those bastards destroyed lives.


	2. Get Through This

Almost an hour had passed since Turel had brought the girl home.

He needed rest desperately, but thankfully after the hearty meal he regained a little energy and managed to stay awake without too much effort. By the sounds of it, Zaida had taken very good care of the girl, but he still needed to see her for himself and assess her injuries before he could truly rest. The ankle would have to be tightly bandaged and supported with wooden splints, and her cuts and wounds needed to be cleaned deeply. He trusted Zaida with the cooking and the cleaning, but when it came to wounds, he knew that he had much more experience and was far better at dealing with such matters than the housekeeper.

So he waited until Zaida called him into the only spare bedroom, where Selena was apparently waiting for him.

Turel rose and walked with much more ease than before. His armour was gone and he had washed and shaved, something he did in every battle. His muscles ached from the night before and his head throbbed, but he still refused to rest. This young woman was his first priority for now.

"May I come in?" Turel asked in a tone that was a little forced. He didn't normally speak so quietly, but th young woman had been through a lot and he didn't want to bring any unnecessary stress. A faint 'yes' came from inside of the room and he prepared to enter, but Zaida bursting out with a bowl of dirty cloths and bloody water strartled him a little and the Sarafan Priest almost lost his balance.

"Oh Lord Turel, I'm sorry," the older woman huffed, bowing her head in a pitiful apology. "The girl is in pain. I trust you know what to do? If you need me, please don't hesitate to wake me but after feeling Cassius I must return home." Turel nodded. Home was only a five minute walk away from his own house, so it wouldn't have been a problem to call the old woman if she was needed. But somehow Turel doubted that he would be calling for her again, he could handle wounds and medicines himself. It was more the young woman's emotions that he was worried about.

The Sarafan priest was a fair man, but he hardly had a positive reputation for his sympathy. When a friend or brother experienced bad news, Turel would simply tell them to 'get on with it' but somehow he doubted that such advice would work on an eighteen year old girl. He would have to think outside the box.

"How are you feeling, Selena?" the tall Sarafan asked as he entered the room, his eyes searching the chambers for the petite brunette and finding her nestled underneath the covers, with only her upper body showing. He noticed that Zaida had lended the girl one of his robes and the said robe barely clung onto her shoulders as she sat up.

Turel coughed, diverting her eyes from the skin of her neck and chest to her face, hoping that she had dismissed his eyes scanning her figure as a simple accident.

"Much better, Lord Turel," the girl whispered in an uncomfortable voice. Turel could tell that she was still scared of him, and his thoughts were confirmed when his dark brown eyes met hers and she instantly looked away. He smiled. She was certainly much more beautiful without the dirt and blood streaking her face.

"I can't even begin to express my gratitude to you. You saved my life and I can't begin to tha-"

"Please, Selena," Turel spoke softly as he approached the bed and crouched carefully beside the girl. "I have asked you already, just call me Turel. And you have nothing to thank me for." He paused for a second, and his eyes took their time to scan her face. It was the first time Turel truly looked at her and he found himself wishing that another would have found her.

She was a beautiful girl and in time she would become an even more beautiful woman.

Even with a deep cut across her forehead and cheek, Selena had the most flawless skin he had ever seen on an adult. It was sun-kissed, and Turel wondered for a moment how the upper classes of societies ever prefered ivory white skin. And her eyes, the way they widened when they looked back at him, were so dark they were almost black, even though the soft waves of her hair were a chestnut brown.

_Yes, she truly is beautiful, _Turel thought quietly, before standing to his feet again and moving across the room to where Zaida had left the necessary first aid equipment. _But I refuse to fall into temptation._

Turel picked up the box of first aid equipment and almost tentatively returned to the bed, sitting beside the girl on the bed. He asked Selena to extend her injured leg and the girl obliged carefully, her cheeks colouring pink in embarrassement as she placed her foot on top of the Sarafan priests' lap. She flinched, it was obvious that she was in so much pain, but she was a little used to it now.

"It's okay, it won't be damaged forever," Turel narrowed his eyes, his strong fingers gently massaging the padded cussion of her broken foot. He was an expert on injuries and could take care of anything from a cut to a broken bone, as long as no surgery was involved. This, he could handle, so as carefully as he could, the Sarafan priest began to bandage her ankle as tightly as possible before making a comfortable wooden cast. He knew that she would need the cast for another two weeks, and that the bandages would have to be tightened and changed on a regular basis.

"That's it, all done," the sarafan priest almost whispered as he drew back, noting with a small smile that the girl's small fists had been clenching hard at the bed sheets. An awful thought passed through his mind then, about a hundred other reasons for why she should have been clenching the sheets, but he pushed those terrible thoughts away. Now he had to focus on something far more important ; just what exactly he was going to do with this girl.

"You said that your village was attacked by fledging vampries. What happened exactly? How did this happen? Tell me as much as you can remember Selena, please. If several people escaped then there is a chance that they may still be alive and in good health, and if that is the case, then we need to send out a search party."

Selena nodded, still somewhat dazed from the pain. Turel had been gentle certainly, but without morphine or something to numb the pain, the Sarafan pushing and twisting the bandages around her ankle had been excruciating. She had practically gone into a small state of shock.

"I..." she began, thick brown curls falling over her eyes as she tilted her head downwards, unpleasant memories of that horrible night now flooding her mind. "It all happened so suddenly, I couldn't even tell you what hour it was. All I know is that it musn't have been ten o'clock yet, because my brother wasn't sleeping. My parents are very strict about his routine, he's only twelve." Selena looked up at Turel then, who was sat on the edge of the bed now. He stared at her intensely and his deep brown eyes were completely unreadable. She couldn't have begun to guess his age, because even though his eyes were stern and experienced, his skin was practicaly flawless. He couldn't have been over thirty five, that was for sure.

"Everyone was relaxing. There are five of us, my two younger brothers and my parents. We were gathered in front of the fireplace, mother and I were sewing and the boys played chess... father was... all I remember was father jumping to his feet as soon as he heard the screaming outside," she paused, for the first time taking her eyes away from Turels'. "It wasn't just any kind of scream. Not a scream of surprise. It was wailing, people were screaming to get out and run quickly. People were screaming for their lives. The last thing I remember before being dragged out of the house was our neighbour Madeline's voice. She yelled 'vampires.' That was all it took for my father to drag us to our feet and march us out of our home."

A silence fell over them. Tears filled Selena's tired brown eyes and Turel reached out a hand, placing it carefully over hers. He knew this situation far too well. He had heard hundreds of stories, seen hundreds of casualties. She was scared that she had lost everyone, everything, and from seeing it a thousand times, Turel knew that she probably had.

"I saw them kill her. He killed Madeline," the girl suddenly whispered, obviously unable to raise her eyes again to meet Turel's. He couldn't work out if it was due to embarrassement or due to sadness and the realisation that her family and the friends she had known since childhood, the people that raised her and loved her, her everything had probably been destroyed.

He squeezed her fingers and the girl responded weakly but still didn't dare to raise her eyes to meet him.

"They are such vile creatures," she continued in a tone that was hardly anything but a whisper. "He ripped open her throat just like that. He just ripped open her throat with his claws and he... he killed her. Without an ounce of remore, he killed her, Turel."

And for the first time, the girl raised her head and Turel saw the tears streaking her cheeks and the pain in her dark brown eyes. She squeezed his hand harder now and cried visibly, no longer trying to hide her grief.

"I promise you, we will stop it," the Sarafan priest reassured in a whisper and shifted closer to the girl on the bed. Encouraged by this, Selena seemed to lose her inhibitions and despite her injuries, she almost threw herself forward and nuzzled her face into his shoulder and neck, seeking comfort.

Thankfully he had changed now, so his movements were no longer restricted by the heavy Sarafan armour, giving him the ability to gently hold her in return. She just needed reassurance, he understood that, which was why he gently rubbed her shoulders and gently hushed her, despite the butterflies in his stomach starting to dance at the physical contacted. The harder she sobbed, the harder she pressed her little body into his muscular chest and Turel couldn't help but notice the feel of her full breasts against his own hard body, or the way her warm breath stroked the neck of his skin...

It had been _so long _since he last felt the touch of a woman. It was practically impossible for him to react _just _like a priest, and not like a man. He felt her body next to his and he aknowledged that her breathing on his neck felt good, and he noticed that the way the gown fell over her shoulders meant that it showed maybe just a little bit too much of her skin, and he couldn't help but arch his neck in an attempt to see the gentle curve of her spine.

It wasn't like he didn't feel her pain. Turel understood perfectly well and he emphasised and he silently promised to fight those foul monsters for victims like this poor girl, but he still couldn't deny that his body was reacting to her. It had been years since a woman was even pressed against him in an embrace like this, let alone anything else.

"Take deep breaths," the Sarafan priest gently commanded, somewhat unsure of whether he was telling the girl, or himself. They both obliged, and slowly she began to calm, forcing him to do the same.

"I will return to Rakhan. I will look in the near-by villages and I promise you that if there are survivours, I will find them. But you must be thankful to be alive. I know now everything seems bleak but you are alive. And you are here now, and I will protect you."

Almost instantly, Selena's shyness seemed to return and the pretty girl quietly looked away as she gave Turel's fingers one last squeeze before releasing him and wiping at her eyes.

"I'm so sorry for this, Lord Turel. I'm just... I am scared. I have nobody left. I have nothing."

Turel shook his head, his practically jet black hair falling over his shoulders as he spoke. "You are welcome to stay here until you are better. In fact, I insist and I will not take no for an answer. You will be safe here, I can guarantee that, and I promise you a roof over your head until you are happy enough and healthy enough to leave."

Oh, and what would his fellow Priests say when they found out about his lodger? They would probably congratulate him, for being so kind and hospitable, but what would they say when they found out that this 'lodger' was a beautiful eighteen year old woman, who was causing his heart to beat faster than it had beaten in years, and his thoughts to run down an impure track?

_Nothing, _he thought. _Those hypocrites wouldn't say anything to me._

Turel was the most disciplined one out of them all. Since taking his oath, he had not been with a woman once. He had looked, and on one or two occasions, he _had _touched but despite a few hick-ups, Turel had stuck to the code. The same couldn't be the same for the other priests. Even now, Turel was positive that Zephon frequently took out his frustrations with whores, and he knew that Raziel had had a lover once, a young married woman. And it had lasted several years.

Sure, his thoughts were impure, but his actions were kind and his morals were good. He was a _good _man. A honest man. And he wouldn't lie to his brothers, but this time, he would not tell them the truth.

She was just a lodger after all. In a month, or two at most, Selena and the impure thoughts would be gone from his world.

But for now, she was here. And she was sitting in front of him, with the gown just gently slipping off her right shoulder, and he couldn't just dismiss that. So gentle, the Sarafan priest reached out and pressed his hand over hers again, marvelling about how small and delicate it looked against his own.

"You must sleep now, Selena. I promise, things will be better when you wake. Tomorrow is a brand new day and you will get through this."


End file.
